In Case You Missed It: July 20 Sermon

The Courage to Pause
Series: What Moves You? (Week 3 - Faith: Hospitality & Listening)

Gospel Reading: Luke 10:38-42


Two Sundays ago, we began with a question: 
What moves you?
Not just where you’re going—but what stirs you to rise, to walk, to act?

In Week One, we said: Compassion binds us. It draws us together inward, and sends us outward with the peace of Christ.
In Week Two, we said: Mercy walks. It crosses boundaries and brings us closer to those we would not have chosen.
And today—Week Three—we do something different.

We pause.
Because sometimes the most faithful movement is a stillness rooted in love.

Welcoming the Presence
The story begins with action:
“Martha welcomed Jesus into her home.”

This is not a passive gesture.
In a male-dominated society, where hospitality was the duty of the household’s male head, it is Martha who opens the door.
She receives not just Jesus—but likely a dozen hungry disciples.

She prepares. She hosts. She offers her best.
In many ways, she reflects the great tradition of biblical hospitality—Abraham welcoming three strangers under the oaks, the widow of Zarephath offering Elijah her last meal, the Shunammite woman preparing a room for Elisha.

Martha is not failing.
She is practicing righteousness.
Her hands are busy because her heart has already said yes.

But something shifts.

When Hospitality Becomes Fragmented

As the room fills with conversation, Martha’s focus begins to fray.
The text says: she was distracted by her many tasks.
Literally, in Greek: she was pulled around, drawn away.
Her mind is no longer centered. Her heart no longer settled.

It’s not her movement that is the problem.
It’s the disconnection between her hands and her heart.
Her offering has turned into obligation.
Her welcome into resentment.

She comes to Jesus—not with bread or wine—but with a question filled with complaint:
“Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her to help me.”

And Jesus replies, with love:
“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things.
Only one thing is needed.
Mary has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken from her.”

Not Doing Less—but Being Whole

We often assume this story pits Mary against Martha.
As if stillness is holier than action.
But Jesus never rebukes Martha’s service.
He speaks to her scattered spirit.

The issue is not that Martha was working.
The issue is that her inner life was divided.
She was moving, but no longer grounded.
Serving, but no longer present.
Giving, but no longer joyful.

Action and stillness are not enemies.
They are meant to serve each other.

There is a way to move that remains centered.
A way to serve that flows from love.
A way to prepare a meal while the heart stays rooted in grace.

A Different Imagination

And sometimes I wonder…

What if the story had gone differently?
What if Martha-though busy-had never lost her focus?
What if her heart remained full of gratitude as she stirred the pot and kneaded the bread?
What if she cooked with joy, not anxiety?

Would Jesus have said to her:
“Martha, your hands are busy, but your heart is here.
You, too, have chosen the better part.”
Perhaps he would have.
Because the better part is not where we sit—it is how we stay.

And what about Mary?

What if she had begun with attentive listening—sitting close, eyes fixed on Jesus—but then, little by little, her attention drifted?
What if the sound of chopping in the kitchen made her restless?
What if she began comparing recipes in her head, or wondering whether the dishes were clean?
What if her thoughts moved from the Word in front of her to the work behind her?

And perhaps Jesus would have turned to her and said:
“Mary, your body was still, but your heart was scattered.
You started well—don’t let your focus slip away.”

In both women, we see something of ourselves.

The Courage to Pause

So this story is not about choosing between silence or service.
It’s about the inner courage to stay grounded in love—wherever we are.

To pause doesn’t always mean to stop moving.
It means to return to the center.
To let our hearts be stilled in Christ.
To remember why we welcome.
To rediscover joy in what we offer.

In a world that constantly pulls us outward,
to pause is not weakness—it is strength.
It is not avoidance—it is alignment.
It is not silence—it is deeper presence.

Where Are We Now?

So where are we today?

Are we in the kitchen, growing bitter in our busyness?
Or are we at the feet of Christ, but already turning our gaze elsewhere?

Maybe, like Martha, we’ve opened our homes,
but we’ve forgotten to open our hearts.
Maybe, like Mary, we’ve started well—
but our thoughts are spinning.

Christ doesn’t shame either.
He simply invites both to return.
To pause.
To listen.
To serve with joy again.

Because the gospel doesn’t always shout.
Sometimes it whispers.

And the courage to pause—
is the courage to hear it again.

Amen.


Sermon Reflection Questions:

1.    When you’re doing your best to care for others, where is your heart resting?
Sometimes our hands are busy, but our hearts are scattered. What’s the difference between loving through action and losing ourselves in it?

2.    Have you ever lost the joy of serving? What caused your heart to shift?
Like Martha, we can start with love but end up overwhelmed. What changes when we lose focus-and what helps us return?

 3.    If Jesus called your name today, what distractions or worries might He name?
His voice to Martha was not harsh but tender. What would He gently invite you to let go of?

4.    What could pausing look like for you this week-not to do less, but to act from a grounded heart?
True pause isn’t about inactivity-it’s about returning to presence. Where might Christ be waiting for you to slow down?

5.    What is “the better part” your soul is longing for right now?
Mary chose what could not be taken from her. What would it look like for you to choose what matters most in this season?

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Pastoral Letter: Grace That Goes Before Us

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Pastoral Letter: Following the Feet of Mercy